


Our Story

by Pistol



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dragon Age Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:03:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22041073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pistol/pseuds/Pistol
Summary: Derek finishes the last page, the story telling the tale of how Scott had deftly stuck in the daggers into a demon that Derek had trapped in a telekinetic prison, how the group had patched each other up when it was over, and the feast that Boyd had cooked up in celebration. The hastily scrawled words are all tinged with all too obvious affection
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Kudos: 16





	Our Story

**Author's Note:**

> For V, who helped me crawl out of a depression by simply being my friend.

"You still writing in that thing?"

Stiles startles, glancing up from his journal just as Derek takes a seat next to him at the fire.

"Of course, someone has to record our fantastic adventures," Stiles winks. "Can't have history forgetting the heroic way Lydia wielded a hammer or the way you like to run around turning people into icicles."

Derek rolls his eyes, before stilling. He glances questioning at the book, "You write about me in there?"

Stiles' grin fades slightly as he squints down at the parchment. "Of course," he assures Derek as he finishes jotting a thought and closes the book. 

"See for yourself," he offers handing it over.

Derek takes it, turning the journal over in his hands before opening it. He flips through, stopping randomly to read bits of exaggerated tales of their groups adventures. 

Stiles clears his throat, motioning to the journal. "There was this Keeper I met once, Keeler Welles of the Orson Clan, and he told me that if you want a story to have a happy ending then it all depends on where you stop your story."

"Happy endings, huh?" Derek muses as he skims the first chapter, a tale of nobodies who fought each other as much as they fought darkspawn. He flips ahead, catching flashes of the group beginning to actually act like a group, of battles won and lost, and of the vicious verbal fights with Stiles that had turned into playful banter over a camp fire. "Don't see a lot of those these days."

"No, we really don't."

Derek finishes the last page, the story telling the tale of how Scott had deftly stuck in the daggers into a demon that Derek had trapped in a telekinetic prison, how the group had patched each other up when it was over, and the feast that Boyd had cooked up in celebration. The hastily scrawled words are all tinged with all too obvious affection. Derek runs a finger slowly down a blank parchment towards the end of the journal. 

"So, what happens next?" 

Stiles frowns, glancing pensively at the bag that contains their rations. "I was thinking probably nug stew…"

Derek chuckles softly, nodding to the journal in his hands, "No, I meant our story. What fantastic adventures await us?"

Stiles stills, "_Our_ story?" 

"Yeah," Derek confirms with more than a little hope in his voice. "I was thinking when the others got back maybe we could all think about finding a place to settle. Just because none of us has a home anymore doesn't mean we couldn't make a new one."

"So, we'd just find a cottage and what, raise cows?" Stiles laughs, something angry lurking underneath the sound of it. "How would that even work? I mean, farm chores and Lydia don't exactly mix."

"She helped kill an Archdemon," Derek reminds him. "I think Lydia could manage a few chickens.

"As nice as that sounds, it's not very realistic, is it?"

Derek looks away, his jaw clenching. "If you don't want-"

"Oh, I want," Stiles insists. "But it's not in the cards, see, your story ends here-" he reaches over and touches his journal gently, "and it ends on a high note. A happy ending."

For a while nothing happens, the silence stretching out between them as Derek considers Stiles' words. Stiles sits silently next to him, watching blankly as Derek's confusion turns to disbelief and finally to shock.

"On a high note," Derek echoes warily.

Stiles nods, "This is as close to a haply ending as I could give you." 

"You're going to try to kill me now, aren't you?"

"Not try," Stiles says with a sad smile. "I will. But you'll die a hero when I tell your story. I swear it. You'll all be remembered for what you did these last few weeks, not for the sins in your pasts."

Derek closes his eyes, "Sins of our pasts?"

"Only a handful of people in Beacon had ever even handled a sword, you know? It was far away enough from the worst of the blight that the worst threat they knew was the occasional bandit." Stiles stares into the camp fire, his memories taking him somewhere Derek can't follow. "No one expected they'd have to deal with the aftermath of a centuries old feud between an offshoot of the Templars and a Dalish clan that combined became so violent that they tore holes in the Fade. The majority of the people in Becaon were farmers, Derek. They had a sheriff and a few swords, but not enough to hold back all the rage demons that spilled over."

Derek swallows, looking away. "You know about that?"

Stiles nods. "The sheriff? He was my dad."

"We never meant-" Derek protests, voice hoarse, "we never expected-"

"No one ever does," Stiles agrees. "I hear it all the time. People are just trying to survive, they think _what's a little blood magic here and there_."

"They stole our children, burned them _alive_."

"Yeah, and that's what makes this job suck." Stiles tosses another piece of kindling into the fire. "Nothing is ever black or white, not when you want it to be."

Derek glances towards the trail leading into camp, "The others…"

"Won't be coming back," Stiles assures him. "We're the last ones left."

Derek frowns, "Lydia is a Dwarf - Dwarves can't use magic. She couldn't have been a blood mage. And Scott… Scott couldn't levitate a sovereign if his life depended on it."

"I'm not some kind of mage hunter, Derek. I'm just a guy that makes problems go away."

"And Lydia was a problem to _who_? The merchants who tried to sell her knock-offs?"

"Lydia's family has been kidnapping casteless Dwarves and humans to sacrifice to the Anvil for years. I got her parents last year, but she was the last one who knew the Anvil's location. I couldn't take the chance."

"And Scott?"

Stiles sighs, rubbing wearily at his face, "Scott was cursed with Lycanthropy and tried to hide it. Unlike most, he only transformed one night a month. It only took one night for him to massacre a fishing village up north."

**Author's Note:**

> Was previously posted, then taken down. Now it's back up. Beware the errors and typos, I suspect the files I found on my old hard drive are the pre-beta versions.  
Please don't steal any of my silly stories and change some names around and then try to sell them as books on Amazon or I'm gonna have to take everything down again.


End file.
